The Nemesis War
by Fierce Harmony
Summary: A great artifact of darkness has been uncovered, and armies from all across the world are converging on the Great Forest of the Empire to claim it. The High Elves of Ulthuan are determined to find the artifact and destroy it themselves, no matter the cost


The Battle at the Glades of Mist

The early morning light played across the mist that enveloped the clearing. Two woods rose from the fog, seemingly serving as sentinels for the Great Forest that lay beyond the field. The tendrils of mist reached up their ancient trunks, as if they sought to bring the guardians down, before receding back into the fog blanket of the glade. It was an oddly beautiful, yet foreboding sight.

Thalanar of Hoeth however, did not like what he saw. His task force was charged with scouting out the surrounding area, and to report any enemy activities. After the loss of several scouts though, this party was well armed and prepared. Thalanar turned to his brother, Aralanion, who had served as both a stalwart friend; and infuriating rival during their training at the White Tower of Saphery back in distant Ulthuan.

"What do you make of this land brother?" Thalanar said, "The winds of magic appear to flow smoothly here."

Aralanion eyed the woods in the middle of the clearing, "Aye that they do, but there is something else out there… something hidden in the mist."

Thalanar followed his brother's gaze, "Perhaps it is some kind of magical artifact left by our kin? The Loremasters back in Ulthuan would surely be interested in an artifact from those ancient times."

The trees began to sway, despite the lack of any kind of breeze. Alarmed, both of the Elven Mages saw green lights shimmering under their boughs.

Aralanion came to his senses quickly, "Perhaps they would little brother, but I do not think this is an artifact left by our ancestors. It is something else that they left behind. Prepare the troops for battle."

Orders were given out to stay away from the trees. The warhost formed a semicircle facing both woods. Aralanion stood with the contingent of Swordmasters, the Blades, led by the famed Bladelord Eldacaron. Positioned on the left flank of the army, Aralanion looked to the right. Next to the Blades, a Repeater Bolt Thrower was set up; its crew quickly making sure everything was in shape. On the other side of the bolt thrower, stood Cindinar's Phalanx, with Thalanar joining the ranks of the spearmen. Finally on the far right flank of the army, the noble Knights of Syndrial mounted their steeds, ready to charge anything that threatened the Phalanx's flank. Satisfied, Aralanion looked to the woods.

Thalanar knew the plan. If anything was to attack them, it would have to break cover from the trees, and then be caught in the open as he and his brother pummeled it with magic. Simple, he thought, and to the point. He liked it. What he didn't like though, was the idea of killing fellow Elves. He knew about their woodland kin, and of their savage disposition. However, if they were willing to attack their cousins, Thalanar knew that he would have to do his best to repulse the Asrai. A line of their archers seemingly materialized out of the mist, to the left of the woods and across from the Blades. Thalanar could hear the pounding of hooves but knew that the sound did not come from the Knights. Strange forms danced under the trees. He was ready.

A great twang was heard as the Bolt thrower fired a salvo of shots at the Wood Elven archers. Aided by Thalanar's magic, every bolt hit a target and six of the Asrai crumpled to the ground. Remarkably, they held their ground despite losing over half of their number. The rest of the Asur held, waiting for the Wood Elves to attack. The surviving Glade Guard moved forward and fired a volley towards the Blades. Eldacaron and his men had trained for centuries, and their great swords flashed out, deflecting most of the arrows. However, one Swordmaster caught an arrow in the chest and collapsed. Thalanar was startled as the pounding of hooves grew louder, and six of the Asrai on horses burst from the woods, took aim, and fired at Syndrial's Knights. The arrows were unable to penetrate the thick armour of the heavy cavalry, but one of the horses was hit, and its rider was thrown to the ground as the noble steed fell. Aralanion looked at the woods to his left as green light flashed from within. The Asrai were determined to destroy their High kin.

Thalanar and the Phalanx moved toward the cavalry archers, the Knights moving up as well. Looking forward through time with his magic, Thalanar knew he did not have much time to take out the Asrai horsemen. Great gouts of flame erupted from the left flank of the army, and Thalanar could sense beings attempting to stop his powerful brother. Seizing the chance, Thalanar pointed his ring at the Asrai, and the horsemen were engulfed by the destructive powers of Khaine. Nothing was left where the Glade Riders once stood, the mist receding to reveal charred and flaming grass.

Aralanion's magical assault on the woods resulted in the trees bursting into flame, and a lone tattooed body falling from the branches. Wardancers, the elite fighters of the Wood Elves, lurked within the inferno. They danced out of the blaze, shouting their warcries as they charged toward Eldacaron's Blades. Another great twang was heard as the bolt thrower fired another volley towards the Glade Guard, but this time the Asrai were more prepared, and only one unlucky elf bowman was felled.

The Wardancers leapt into combat with the Blades, both sides swinging their swords with an almost supernatural grace. A particularly acrobatic, wild-eyed Wardancer cut down two Swordmasters; however they parried the disorienting attacks of the others, with Eldacaron running one of the tattooed Elves through with his great-sword. The combatants pulled apart for a moment, eyeing each other with grudging respect. Aralanion was stunned at the martial prowess displayed by both forces; however, a cry from the bolt-thrower crew roused him. The woods in the center of the mist-shrouded glade were moving towards them, ancient trees creaking and groaning. A great cry was heard, followed by a bellowing roar. A group of tree-daemons ran out of the woods, heading towards the swirling melee between the Blades and the Wardancers. Recovering his wits, Aralanion ordered the crew of the bolt-thrower to open fire upon the tree-folk, bringing down three of the creatures. The terrified whinnying of horses brought Aralanion's attention to the army's right flank.

Thalanar could scarcely believe it as the woods moved towards the Phalanx and Tree-daemons loped towards the Swordmasters. However, his shock was nothing compared to how he felt when a giant creature stomped out of the woods towards the spearmen and the Knights. Part tree, part fell monstrosity, the Treeman bellowed a challenge towards the Asur. Fear rooted the Elven infantry and cavalry, causing them to be unable to react to the giant creature.

Aralanion ducked as arrows flew past, the few archers left attempting to assassinate him. Distracted, he was unable to do anything as the Dryads charged Eldacaron and his Blades in their flank, tipping the balance in favour of the Asrai.

Parrying both the swords of the Wardancers, and the club-like fists of the Dryads, Eldacaron cried out to the Mage, "Go! Aid your brother! We will hold them off for as long as we can!" Aralanion ran, praying to Isha for Eldacaron's safety.

However, he found his brother, Cindinar's Phalanx and Syndrial's Knights confronted by the ancient Treeman. Bellowing its fury, the monster thrust its hands into the ground, and almost simultaneously, great roots shot up under the Knights, impaling a rider and his steed. This gruesome attack spurred the Elves into action. Screaming out oaths to Khaine, Syndrial and his remaining Knights charged the Treeman, quickly followed by Cindinar's spearmen, who slammed into the monster's side. The creature appeared unfazed by the attack though, spears and lances breaking on its bark-like hide. Swinging a massive arm, the Treeman sent five spearmen flying through the air.

"Stand your ground!" Cindinar yelled, as panic seemed to grip the spearmen.

Turning, Aralanion and Thalanar, who had left the Phalanx due to Cindinar's insistence, saw the Dryads emerge from the fog, heading towards them. Thalanar tried to smite them with his magical ring, but its light faded. Cursing, Aralanion conjured a fireball from his palm and sent it flying towards the tree-daemons. It hit one dead on, and two others were caught in the resulting explosion. The creatures withdrew from the magical flames.

Cindinar ducked a trunk-like arm as the Treeman thrashed wildly, enraged by the deaths of the three Dryads. Four more spearmen were sent through the air, but Cindinar saw an opening. Dashing in, he thrust his sword into a crack in the monster's side, and sap flowed from the wound. The Treeman, having not felt pain for thousands of years, and pressed on all sides by the glimmering ranks of the High Elves, lost its nerve. Turning, it took three great strides, and disappeared into the forest.

Syndrial rode in front of the spearmen and shouted "Hold men! The field is ours!" A great cheer went up, followed by an eerie silence that gripped the glade, its only occupants being the High Elves.

Thalanar dropped to his knees, exhausted. They had won the battle, but the price was high. Many of the Blades and Spearmen had lost their lives, and the dead had to be buried. The mists lifted, as the sun shone brightly overhead.

Three of the Swordmasters walked up to Aralanion. One of them said "Four of our warriors are wounded, but I believe they will live. However Eldacaron is missing, dead or alive, we are not sure. Additionally, the Wood Elves are not quite themselves." He gestured and the other two Blades brought up a pale, tattooed corpse.

Aralanion gasped, noticing the subtle mutations on the Wardancer, "This elf has been corrupted… no wonder they attacked us. Whatever power that has taken hold of the Asrai most likely has taken Eldacaron as well. We should return to base, and I shall see if I can find him."

The sun shone brightly overhead, but the Elves did not feel its warmth.


End file.
